FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF PHOENIX AND BEAU'S TALLOW-BASED SHAVING SOAP
I don't know about you, but at the end of a long, tiring, sweaty* day, I like to unwind by sticking my face into an open pot of Phoenix and Beau Spitfire Shaving Soap and breathing in the rather wonderful scent of leather, juniper and tobacco**. Once I've done this a couple of times - and who in their right mind wouldn't want to stand there for a good five minutes simply inhaling that aroma? - I must confess to getting a little bit of a thrill at the packaging, which you can see here to the right, in all its glory. A glance at the label and I'm reminded of David Niven in A Matter of Life and Death, one of the finest examples of 1940s British cinema you're ever likely to see. If you've never seen it, drop what you're doing*** and go and watch it right now. It was made in 1946, so there's no swearing, no car chases, no tightly-cut, ludicrously-skillful fistfights. But there's lots of Darling. I love you. spoken in very rapid, clipped British accents. It's wonderful. As is - while we're on the subject - Waterloo Road, with John Mills and Stewart Granger, which was filmed around the same time and does have a great fight in it, between the two stars.
Leaving aside the subject of fistfights or the lack thereof in British films made in the 1940s, let's get back to the shaving soap in question with a brief round up of its qualities. It produces a great lather but steady as she blows, sir, because I left probably a little too much water in my brush initially and so was rewarded with a slightly wetter shave than I would have wanted. I need to experiment with water/shaving soap ratios a little more. I may try blooming the soap first next time, and then face lathering, just for a bit of variety to my shave. The soap is very slick - probably the slickest I've experienced - and allows for a smooth, comfortable shave. I certainly wouldn't want to take to the skies in a WWII fighter plane without a tub of this on my lap, I can tell you.
* Depending on what you've been doing, I suppose. Unless you're prone to sweating while doing nothing.
** Can I be honest here and say that had I not read the scent information on the label, I doubt I'd have taken a sniff and thought, Aha! That scent! Redolent of leather, juniper and tobacco. How could anyone mistake it for anything else? That's a comment on my olfactory insensitivity, though, not on the scent of the soap itself, which is wonderful. As is the description of how it came to be created, which - if you've already followed the link to the relevant page on the Phoenix and Beau website above - you'll know is very entertaining and informative.
*** Within reason, of course.